


Arrangement between colleagues

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pre-Series, Sharing a Bed, bedannibalprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:21:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: “Perhaps- “he speaks again, his voice surprisingly uncertain, “we can share my room.”Bedelia stares at him in disbelief, surely, she must have misheard, she is very tired after all.





	Arrangement between colleagues

“I’m sorry, there is nothing I can do.”

Bedelia has lost count of how many times she has heard that sentence today. She stares at the young brunette behind the front desk; her eyes are sharp like a pair of polished sapphires, making the woman uncomfortable, but Bedelia does not care.

This day has been the most absurd one she has ever experienced. She left Chicago that morning after a rather boring conference, but now it appears it had been the highlight of her weekend. She landed safely, yet her luggage did not, lost somewhere in the Chicago airport. On top of that her connecting flight had been cancelled.

Now she faces a night in this unpleasant airport with no prospects of finding a room.

“I am sure there is another hotel,” Bedelia’s voice is calm, but laced with ice shards, piercing with every word.

“I’m sorry- “the woman hesitates to utter those words again, “There are only two and they are both fully booked.” Her smile is meant to be professional, but now it’s only nervous.

Bedelia is preparing to ask to speak to the manager; she knows it won’t do much good, but she is determined to exhaust all options. This day cannot get any worse.

“Dr Du Maurier?” She thought wrong.

Hannibal Lecter attended the same conference as her. She caught glimpses of him, manoeuvring amongst the attendees with grace and charm, leaving behind delighted smiles and even lustful gazes. He seemed to be in his element, but Bedelia sensed a well-polished façade. You should never judge a book by its cover and there is more to Dr Lecter than meets the eye. Theirs met several times throughout the event, though she made no effort to catch his attention. She knew he wanted nothing more than to talk her, but, luckily, her engagements kept her busy and out of his company’s way. Until now.

“Good evening Hannibal,” she says, turning the meet his gaze, He insisted she called him by his first name since the day they met. She did not extend the same offer, after all, he was her patient.

“I did not know you’re staying in the same hotel,” he says with a smile, as though delighted at the prospect.

“I am trying too,” she replies sharply, her attention turning back to the woman behind the counter.

“We are fully booked,” the woman explains swiftly, looking at Hannibal, as if afraid a second person will begin to question her.

“My flight has been cancelled. The next one is tomorrow morning,” Bedelia says; she would not normally share this much information, but she is exhausted and her alertness is diminished.

“I was also meant to be on that flight,” Hannibal says, “And I believe I might have taken the last room available,” he adds with regret, it is surprisingly genuine.

_Of course, he had_ , Bedelia thinks and sighs, resigned to spend a sleepless night in the terminal. She is ready to leave, the manager now forgotten, when Hannibal’s intense stare stops her. He looks as though he is pondering a serious notion. Bedelia likes to observe him; his face tells more than the words he utters. Those seem like a well-rehearsed script at times, but his dark eyes tend to reveal his true intent.

“Perhaps- “he speaks again, his voice surprisingly uncertain, “we can share my room.”

Bedelia stares at him in disbelief, surely, she must have misheard, she is very tired after all.

“I don’t want to see you spending the night at the airport, “the shyness in his tone is something she hasn’t heard before, but she is too startled to consider it properly.

“I would like to help you,” he adds, holding her gaze and she assesses his intentions.

“That wouldn’t be a problem, am I correct?” he looks at the receptionist, who remains an accidental witness to their unusual exchange.

“Of course not, it is a room with double occupancy.” Hannibal turns to Bedelia with a smile, though she still has not uttered a word. She is caught between an impossible choice, a proverbial two evils and now she must decide which one is the lesser one.

“If this isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you, “she says at last, but she can tell from his now beaming expression that it is not, “Thank you.”

The woman hands her a key to the room, eager to be finally rid of her. The plastic card feels awkward in her hand, a perfect representation of her feelings.

 

They are both silent as the elevator takes them to the correct floor. She can feel his eyes darting towards her, but does not acknowledge it. The elevator stops at last and the door opens with a bell. The absence of conversation continues as they walk down the corridor. The corridor that appears never-ending, Bedelia concludes, suddenly aware that this is the first time they have been so physically close to each other. She has never realised how much taller her patient is, until now, having him walk next to her. The authority she has sitting in her usual chair and having him at her scrutiny is suddenly gone.

Finally, they stop in front of the room and Hannibal opens the door, letting her in first. Bedelia takes in the new surroundings; it is a suite with a bedroom and a small sitting area. She is grateful for Hannibal’s apparent penchant for comfort, as she looks at the sofa; it is tiny, but it will have to do.

“I will sleep on the sofa,” Hannibal breaks the silence, no doubt noticing her gaze.

“No. I do not wish to inconvenience you further,” she will be barely able to fit on it herself, she cannot see Hannibal attempting it.

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he says firmly. She can tell this discussion will not end in a conclusion.

They both fall silent. There is only one solution left, but both are reluctant to voice it out loud, as if the person who speaks first, fails. Bedelia is not sure what is the loss, but it feels like there is a game in play, although the purpose and rules have not yet been set. Perhaps there are being set now.

She looks at him with hesitation and recognises his manners won’t allow him to bring up the subject first. She assesses the strategy and finds it wise to make the first move.

“We can share the bedroom,” she keeps her voice nonchalant and confident.

“If you are comfortable with that,” he gazes at her with caution.

“We can manage for one night,” her voice remains business-like, this is nothing more than an arrangement between two colleagues. She feels she gained the advantage, it is strangely satisfying.

“As you wish,” Hannibal says and Bedelia allows herself a tiny smile of contentment at his servile tone.

“Should I send for your luggage?” he asks dutifully and Bedelia’s satisfaction vanishes as suddenly as it appeared. She was too concerned with finding a room to remember her lost luggage, which now presents additional difficulties. Sleeping naked in a hotel room is not ideal, but she could have managed to endure it for a night. A night alone. Now, however, she is in need of cover.

“My luggage was lost,” she admits with reluctance, feeling her advantage slowly slipping through her fingers, like grains of sand.

“I am so sorry to hear that,” another sincere comment, “This day has not been kind to you. Perhaps a drink would help you unwind,” he proposes.

“Thank you,” the suggestion is more than tempting, “but I need to see if there’s a gift shop I could purchase some nightwear in.”

“I am afraid it will be closed by now. It is quite late,” he looks at her apologetically. The passing of time seems to be another thing that have escaped her attention today.

“I am more than happy to lend you a shirt,” he offers unexpectedly, with a new-found enthusiasm. This time there are no options to consider, she has no choice but to agree. The advantage seemed to be an illusion she never had.

“Thank you,” the last grain disappears between her fingers. The only thing she looks forward to now is a drink.

 

Hannibal checks the contents of the mini bar and returns with whiskey. A mediocre brand, but Bedelia does not intend to savour it. She takes off her jacket and suddenly feels exposed, _naked;_ sh _e_ has never faced him in anything but a perfect dress suit. He pours her a glass and she accepts it with a small tilt of her head. They sit down, facing each other, but it feels out of place with the safe boundaries of their sessions removed.

“Did you enjoy the lectures?” Hannibal asks in an attempt of a casual conversation.

“Sadly, they weren’t engaging. Particularly the talk on social exclusion, it was very disappointing.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he nods and smiles broadly.

They drink in silence, pretending not to look at each other. A second drink follows and Bedelia begins to drift away, the alcohol amplifying her exhaustion.

“I will get you the shirt,” Hannibal says, seeing her tired eyes, then gets up to open his bag and takes an item from a meticulously sorted pile. He hands her the shirt; it is a navy pyjama top.

“I do not want to take away your only clothes,” she says with a pang of guilt.

“I will be fine,” he reassures her, “Please,” he extends his arm further when she makes no move to take it. She finally accepts the shirt; her fingers wrap around freshly-pressed cotton and his fingertips brush over her hand. Immediate goose bumps appear on her skin, but she dismisses it as an effect of alcohol cruising through her bloodstream.

She avoids his gaze and heads to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The hot shower washes away the tension in her muscles, but she remains aware of the presence of the man in the room, with nothing more than a thin door between them. All the water cannot ease her mind; she finally leaves the shower and wraps herself in a towel. She looks in the mirror, reluctant to remove the last traces of her make-up; she feels exposed again, even more now, as the last trace of her professional façade disappears with each sweep of the cosmetic pad.

Bedelia finishes her routine and gazes at the shirt left on the counter. With reluctance, she puts the towel to the side and unbuttons it. She slips the shirt on, trying not to consider its origins, but with little success. The material feels pleasantly soft against her skin, the scent of his almond soap lingers on the fabric. Bedelia finishes buttoning it up and looks in the mirror; the shirt reaches to the middle of her thighs, enfolding her completely. She feels not only enveloped by the fabric, but by _him._

She emerges from the bathroom at last and finds Hannibal stooped over his suitcase. Her patient looks up at the sound of the door opening and his eyes widen, dark irises dilated, as he stares at her without uttering a word. Suddenly, he averts his gaze in a silent contrition.

“The bathroom is yours,” Bedelia says, not commenting on his lascivious stare.

“Thank you,” he replies, avoiding her eyes as he disappears in the bathroom.

The sound of a running water soon follows and Bedelia pours herself another drink, unwilling to cross the threshold of the bedroom. When the glass is empty, she hesitantly approaches the bed. It is a spacious double bed, which hopefully will leave plenty of room _in between_. Selecting a side seems to be another strategic decision, but Bedelia settles for the one she usually favours.

She slips under the cover, head resting slowly on the pillow, but keeps the light on, looking towards the direction of the bathroom with apprehension.

Finally, she can hear the door open and Hannibal’s soft footsteps approaching. He enters the bedroom wearing nothing more than a pair of pyjama bottoms and now it’s Bedelia’s turn to stare. She has always admired his slender build and found herself wondering what he was hiding under the three-piece suits. Most inappropriate thoughts for therapy sessions, ones she attempted to brush away, but now her eyes wonder to rest on his muscular upper body. Her mouth feels dry and she considers getting yet another drink, but knows it would do nothing to clench that thirst _._

She watches as he fastidiously folds his clothes; it would be pedantic if his moves weren’t so graceful and elegant. He makes no comments on her claim of the left side of the bed. A few hurried glimpses follow, as they avoid each other’s eyes, before Hannibal settles himself on the other side of the bed.

“May I turn off the light?” he asks.

“Yes,” she replies and no other words pass between them.

Bedelia closes her eyes, but despite her exhaustion, she is unable to fall asleep. The bed feels very warm and she realises it is the heat radiating from Hannibal’s body. It is oddly pleasant and _inviting_. She tries to pay no heed to it and clear her mind, but with no result. Her eyes open and she stares into the dark space, wondering if her patient has trouble falling asleep too.

 

She turns and meets his eyes wide open. Even in the dark, they shine brilliantly with curiosity. With want. His intentions were known to her from their first meetings. Stolen glances and subtle comments followed by an invitation to his dinner party which she declined.

And now they find themselves alone in the dark. No other sound but their breaths fills the room, as they stare at each other. He makes no attempt to move closer to her.

And then Bedelia moves, her fingertips brushing across his cheek. His skin is warm and surprisingly soft. Her knuckles stroke the stubble on his chin and he closes his eyes briefly, gasping at the welcome feel of her touch.

Bedelia’s hand slides to his shoulder, testing the boundaries, her fingers tracing the line of the muscles in his arms, then skimming across his chest and down to his waist. She can feel his breath quickens, but he remains still, allowing her to explore him as she pleases. She is more aroused with each passing second and when she meets his eyes again, he stares at her purposely as though he _knew_.

And suddenly, she breaches the gap between them and kisses him. His lips are tender and she can taste his surprise, and then his pleasure. He cups her face with his hand and her fingers curl around the back of his neck. A tangle of emotions wraps around them. She wants more and so does he.

His hand slides down her spine as he grips her tighter, deepening the kiss. He unfastens the shirt in one swift movement and tastes her on his tongue as his lips move to kiss her neck, shoulders and breasts. He gasps against her skin as he savours her, a forbidden delicacy he has been craving for a long time.

He then disposes of the shirt and kisses her mouth again. His hand reaches between her thighs, two long fingers sliding through her slick folds and she moans into his mouth. She suddenly breaks the kiss and pushes him down on the bed.

He watches with exhilaration as she settles over him and growls loudly when her nails dig into his chest. His neck arches back as she drags them down his stomach and then leans forward to kiss him again, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip. Her hand reaches to trail the bulge in his trousers and another grunt escapes his lips. She drags his pants down, takes the length of him and lowers herself onto him.

They cry out together, overwhelmed by the intense sensation. Hannibal grabs her hips and holds them tightly as if afraid she will change her mind and stop. She doesn’t, instead she begins to flow over him, her movements deep and slow. It feels so good and Bedelia throws her head back relinquishing the pleasure.

“Touch me,” her voice low and wanton as her movements quicken. He obeys at once; his hand goes between her legs, his thumb circling her swollen bud. She moans loudly and closes her eyes.

The sounds of their pleasure echo on the walls of the dark hotel room and Bedelia feels close to the peak. Hannibal thrusts into her, the pressure of his thumb increases and he finally pushes her over the edge.

Her eyes glass over with stars exploding, clouding her vision. Her body trembles as waves of orgasm wash over her and it feels never-ending. He is right behind her; with two final thrusts, he groans and finds his own release. They pant and gaze at each other in wonder, as if seeing one another for the first time.

Bedelia rolls of him, satiated and insouciant, her head sinking into the pillow. She closes her eyes and drifts off to sleep.

 

The following morning, she wakes up to a feeling of warmth and comfort. Her body enjoys the contentment she is not used to, until her mind awakes fully and recalls the events of last night. Her eyes spring open. Hannibal’s arm is wrapped around her as he holds her tightly. Her first instinct would be to push his arm away, but instead she slips slowly out his embrace, although her body is somehow unwilling to let go.

Once she leaves the bed, she turns to check if she disturbed his peace, but Hannibal remains in deep sleep. Her gaze moves to the shirt, discarded carelessly on the floor. Bedelia wishes she could hold it responsible for the night’s occurrence, much simpler than admitting she gave in to her own desires. She picks it up and folds it, placing it on the chair next to his other clothes.

She dresses in haste, for the first time relieved she has no luggage to worry about, and quietly leaves the room. She fixes her hair in the elevator on the way down and does not allow herself to think until she is safely on board the plane.

In the familiar setting of a plane everything returns to normal and last night seems nothing more than a vivid dream. And dreams are not worth mentioning. Or discussing.

Bedelia closes her eyes and tries to relax, but the scent of him pervades her nostrils and the sensation of his lips and hands still lingers on her skin.

She did not satisfy her thirst, she has merely awakened it.

**Author's Note:**

> Look at me embracing the best of tropes. Hope you enjoyed it as much as they did! :)
> 
> Find me on tumblr and send me love and prompts.


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